Summer Breeze (24 page)

“Wow.” Derek had stopped rocking. “You really do hate this family.”

“No, I don’t
hate
it. You’re so dumb, Derek. I love this family, but how can you love something that you can’t count on? It could all just shrivel up and die and blow away. It’s awful. I can’t stand it.”

At this, Lydia began crying softly, and Kim could hardly bear to watch her daughter struggling. But as she rose to step out onto the porch, she saw Derek stretch his hands toward Lydia.

“Come here, kiddo,” he beckoned. “Come sit with me a minute.”

Even as he spoke, Lydia was already leaving the swing and curling into his lap as she had when she was younger.

Derek wrapped his arms around her and began rocking. “Listen up, tater tot,” he said in a quiet voice. “I am not leaving this family. Not divorcing your mother. Not running out on you and Luke. No way. No how. You got that?”

“Uh-huh,” Lydia sobbed, suddenly a baby again. “But what if Mom divorces you?”

“She won’t. I’m not going to let her. So that’s all there is to it. As for Grandma Finley … well, now that you mention it, she is pretty weird. But I’m used to her, because that’s how she’s always been. You’ll get used to her too. Your grandma and your mother are going to have to figure out how to get along, because neither one of them is going away. I haven’t gotten around to telling your mom that, so don’t spill the beans.”

What?
Kim couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. Hadn’t they discussed it? Hadn’t she made herself perfectly clear? Miranda had to leave! Now Derek was saying she was going to stay. Not only that, but he was asking Lydia to keep a secret from her mother.

Even as her anger mounted, she saw Lydia snuggle closer to Derek. “I won’t tell anyone,” Lydia said.

“As for Luke, you’re right,” Derek told her. “He’s smart, and he’s getting this diabetes thing figured out. Plus, he’s got you to keep an eye on him. So there you go. One family—kind of stressed out, a little bit weird, sometimes sick or angry, but together. That’s us.”

Lydia sniffled. Kim could see her skinny arms snake around Derek’s neck as her dark head nestled against his shoulder.

“You promise?” Lydia asked.

“Cross my heart.”

“Hope to—” She caught her breath.

“No, I don’t hope to die. I intend to live a long life, watch you and Luke grow up, be a good husband to your mother, and rock your babies just the way I’m rocking you. How’s that?”

“Good,” Lydia said.

Inside the foyer, Kim leaned her head against the wall and nodded. Not perfect. Not even truly acceptable. Yet in this moment, it was good enough.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A
ugust came in hot, just as it always did in mid-Missouri. Patsy stayed busy cutting hair short against the heat and humidity. Clients entered the salon wearing shorts and tank tops. Everyone wanted pedicures, because you couldn’t go outside in anything but sandals or flip-flops. People smelled like suntan lotion or baby oil. Some of the drop-in customers were sweaty and damp, but by the time they walked out, Patsy had their hair soft, clean, and bouncy. She added three flavors of iced tea to the menu in the tea area, and they were a hit. She could hardly keep up with the demand.

In fact, things seemed pretty good all over. Next door, Bitty Sondheim’s Pop-In was hopping with vacationers buying her California-style omelets and wraps to take out on the lake. Now that Pete and Patsy had patched things up, Patsy again frequented Rods-N-Ends for root beer floats and the occasional rotisserie hot dog, which she enjoyed while chatting with Pete over the counter.

His business was booming as people bought gas for their cars, RVs, boats, and Jet Skis. He kept tackle moving in and out of the shop too. His worms and minnows were said to be the healthiest and fattest around, and of course, Pete was generous in counting them out. If you asked for a dozen, you were more likely to get fifteen or twenty.

The chiropractor and tattoo places down the street both saw an upswing in their trade. People were forever flipping or flopping the wrong way in the water, and they’d come to the chiropractor for an adjustment. And the young crowd had a carefree and often reckless attitude that took them to the tattoo parlor in groups of three and four. Patsy knew they would select words or pictures they’d later regret and have them tattooed in places that would one day sag something awful. But she understood. On a dare from a group of her girlfriends, she’d had a small ladybug put on the back of her shoulder one afternoon when she was sixteen. Nowadays, she would sometimes wear a skinny-strapped top to show it off if the mood hit her.

As members of the Tea Lovers’ Club began slipping into the salon one Wednesday afternoon, Patsy realized she couldn’t think of a single thing for Esther Moore to put on the agenda. Maybe for once the group would be allowed to chat in peace. Not only that, but Patsy had ushered her last customer away in plenty of time to join the TLC at the start of the gathering.

“I think we should fix some hot water,” Cody suggested. He was already filling the stainless steel urn as Patsy checked on the dessert supply. “Maybe someone would want real tea,” he explained. “With milk and sugar. And maybe that someone would be me.”

“You don’t like iced tea, Cody?” Patsy asked.

“My daddy never had a refrigerator or a cooler or anything like that. So I prefer my … my
beverages …
warm. Did I get that right?”

“Sure did.
Beverages
. That’s a big word.”

“I am increasing my vocabulary. Brenda thought it was a good idea, and so did I. Just so you know, I’m already up to fifth grade reading skills. Phonics and comprehension—both.”

Patsy gave him a big hug. “I’m so proud of you, Cody.”

It hadn’t been so long ago that Cody couldn’t read at all. Brenda Hansen had told Patsy she was terribly frustrated with trying to teach him and had been about to give up. But suddenly everything clicked, and Cody began to understand letters and how they formed words. Recently Patsy had noticed him studying the magazines in the waiting area. Before, he had been looking at the pictures in order to get ideas for his wall mural. Now she realized he was probably reading the text as well.

“Fifth grade?” she said. “No joke?”

“Why would I make a joke about my reading level?” Cody asked her. “Reading skills are not funny. I’m working really hard on them, and right now, I’m reading
My Side of the Mountain
, which is a book written by Jean Craighead George. And do you know what? The boy in that book is sort of like me. He lives in the forest, and so did I. And that’s why reading is good. It makes you think about yourself and figure things out. I never had a falcon named Frightful. That part is different. Also, I got beat up by some men who didn’t like me. That hasn’t happened to Sam. He likes living by himself in the woods, but I’m glad I live in Deepwater Cove with people around.”

“We’re glad you live here too.” Patsy studied Cody’s plugged-in water urn. “And as a matter of fact, I believe I’ll have a cup of hot tea myself.”

“Earl Grey or Darjeeling?” he asked.

“The latter.”

Cody stared at her. “There’s no ladder in here, Patsy. I’m tall enough to paint near the top of the wall without one.”

She opened her mouth to explain, then decided to leave that job to Brenda. “Darjeeling, please, Cody. And I believe I’ll have a lemon bar with that. It’s a little more sugar than I ought to eat, but you know Pete likes me looking ample.”

“I know,” Cody said. “You and Pete are friends.” He leaned over. “I think Jennifer Hansen is beautiful. Brenda told me she’s coming to the TLC today. Do I look handsome as all get-out?”

Patsy smiled. “You sure do, honey. Ever since we cleaned you up, you get handsomer by the day. But Brenda said Jennifer is already starting her missionary studies over at Hidden Tribes Learning Center near Camdenton. I hope you’re not still counting on marrying her.”

“Yes, I am.” Cody solemnly stirred his tea. “I’m counting on it a lot. But don’t tell Jennifer when she comes to the meeting. She thinks we’re just friends like you and Pete, and she doesn’t know that I love her in a wife kind of way. She also doesn’t know she’s going to marry me. That comes later.”

“I see.”

As she absorbed this information, Patsy’s notion of a glorious gabfest with the other ladies in the club transformed into a knot at the bottom of her stomach. This childlike puppy love Cody had developed for Jennifer Hansen could grow into a real problem. Everyone in the community understood that the young man was unusual—in an endearing sort of way. He was always helpful, kind, cheerful, and sincere.

But Cody simply didn’t understand life the way most people did. He looked at the world from a different angle, almost as though his eyes and brain had been borrowed from some other creature. Often it required patience to spend time around Cody. And people didn’t always have patience to spare. Patsy herself had snapped at him a few times. Though she felt bad about it, she just couldn’t help herself. But Cody always forgave her immediately.

“You took the last lemon bar,” he informed her now. “That’s bad social skills, Patsy. But it’s okay, because no one knows but me, and I won’t tell on you. Hey, here comes Kim Finley and Miranda Finley. They don’t look mad at each other today. You can tell because they’re both smiling. And here comes Esther Moore. She should bring Charlie. Then there would be two men in the TLC. Oh, boy, here’s Brenda’s car! Look, there she is! Isn’t she beautiful?”

Patsy nodded as she settled into a chair. She knew Cody wasn’t talking about Brenda, though the older woman was certainly lovely. Cody’s focus was on Brenda’s daughter. When Jennifer Hansen stepped into the salon, Patsy could see she had left her long blonde hair hanging loose around her shoulders, and she wore a simple T-shirt, a pair of khaki shorts, and plain sandals. Unlike her younger sister, Jennifer had never been the homecoming queen or the center of the social whirl at Camdenton High School. She was quiet, studious, and as sweet and wholesome as apple pie.

With a sinking feeling, Patsy watched the young woman’s face light up when she spotted Cody. He gave an eager wave as he pointed to the empty chair beside him. Jennifer said something in a low voice to her mother, confiding woman-to-woman in a way that unsettled Patsy even more. Even if she genuinely liked him—which Patsy dearly hoped—he would be crestfallen when his romantic aspirations weren’t returned.

“Hey there, Cody,” Jennifer said brightly. She slipped into the seat he had saved as he fumbled to rise and pull it back for her. “Hey, Patsy. The salon looks great. You’re really packing people in this summer.”

“Just don’t tell me you want to cut off that beautiful long hair,” Patsy said. “I couldn’t do it.”

Jennifer chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry. I just pin it up if I get too hot. It’s easy.”

Unfortunately, this comment caused her to demonstrate, which in turn drew Cody’s attention like a moth to a bug zapper. He positively gaped as Jennifer flipped her hair over her shoulder, twirled it around her index finger, pulled a clip from her pocket, and secured the roll on the back of her head. It was deftly done, but Patsy knew Cody wasn’t admiring the young woman’s dexterity. Those bright blue eyes were glued to Jennifer’s face and neck … and right on down.

“Wow,” he said.

Jennifer shrugged. “It’s easy, Cody. I’ve been putting it up since I was a kid. Patsy’s the one who taught me how to braid. I used to do my little sister’s hair all the time.”

“I remember that,” Patsy said. “And now you’re all grown up and studying to be a missionary.”

“A missionary?” Miranda Finley had somehow finagled a pair of chairs for herself and Kim at the table. “A lovely young woman like you? Oh, dear. But I suppose you’re determined.”

Jennifer smiled. “I certainly am. I’ve been praying about where to serve. I loved my mission trip to Africa so much, but I’m thinking more and more about going to New Guinea.”

“Not to dash your spirits, dear, but has it occurred to you that the people in New Guinea probably have a perfectly good religion already?”

“Some of them know Christ, but there are still lots of unreached tribes.”

“I have never understood why Christians are so determined to impose their religion on others,” Miranda said. “I realize you’re enthusiastic about your beliefs, Jennifer, but I can assure you that Hindus are very happy as they are. So are Muslims, for that matter. You’ll find a great deal of zeal for Islam in the Arab world, of course. No doubt those tribes you’re going to visit have a way of worshipping that’s comfortable to them too. In my opinion, all paths lead to God.”

Kim sighed. “Yes, Miranda, we know what you think. I’m sure everyone here has seen you and Buddha on the deck.”

At that, Miranda clamped her mouth shut. But not for long. “Well, at least I’m tolerant of letting people worship however they please. I don’t go around trying to convert people to my faith system. I accept
all
teachings of
all
religions.”

“All except Christianity,” Jennifer pointed out.

Everyone at the table turned to stare at the young woman who had spoken up. Brenda Hansen’s face sobered, and she glanced across at Kim. Clearly the two women were realizing they had a couple of firecrackers at the table and there was likely to be trouble.

“What do you mean by that, Jennifer?” Miranda asked with a sweet expression. “Of course I accept Christianity. It’s a perfectly valid path to God. Along with all the others. How can you say I don’t accept Christ’s teachings?”

“Christ insisted that there is only one way to God. He said, ‘No one can come to the Father except through me.’”

“John 14:6,” Cody cut in. “It’s in the Bible. I’ve got that whole chapter by memory.”

“Really?” Jennifer studied the young man for a moment, as if absorbing and filing away this information. Then she returned to Miranda. “Anyway, if you agree with Jesus that He is the only way to God, you can’t accept all the other religions, too.”

Miranda shook her head and let out a sigh. She took a sip of iced tea, commented on the delicious flavor, and then turned back to Jennifer. “I must assure you that I do accept all the teachings of Jesus as valid. Of course He believed He was the path to God. So did Muhammad and Buddha. These three men had experienced profound spiritual revelations, and they taught valuable truths that can enlighten us on our own personal journey of self-discovery. I choose to accept them all.”